


Forever Stuck In Our Youth

by orphan_account



Category: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Gun Violence, Kidnapping, Kinda?, Medical Inaccuracies, Minor Character Death, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Non-Consensual Touching, Other, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker Whump, School Shootings, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-16
Updated: 2020-04-16
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:00:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22567450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Alarms sounded, echoing through the packed halls of the high school. Screaming followed it and with it was the heart wrenching sound of gunshots. The sounds of sneakers squeaking on the floor was next and the slamming and locking of class doors was last.
Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Comments: 17
Kudos: 186





	1. No notion of regret

**Author's Note:**

> This is just an idea so I'm not sure whether to continue or not.  
> Feel free to write feedback on if or how I should continue this story!  
> Correct me on any grammatical or spelling errors too
> 
> Enjoy!!
> 
> TW:  
> Violence, drugging, school shooting, talk of loneliness and depression, death, gun violence, mentions of suicide.

Alarms sounded, echoing through the packed halls of the high school. Screaming followed it and with it was the heart wrenching sound of gunshots. The sounds of sneakers squeaking on the floor was next and the slamming and locking of class doors was last. 

Fear had plagued through the school as one of their own whipped out a fully loaded gun and, without hesitation, flicked off the safety. 

Three bullets had embedded themselves into three different students, all of them now dead or bleeding out in the abandoned hallway. Nobody had bothered to save them, only focusing on running into nearby classrooms and locking them.

It was a free for all at this point. The teachers had ran to their cars and the students had ditched their friends for their own wellbeing. It was a living nightmare....

The second Peter heard the sound of a gun’s safety clicking off, he ran towards it. When the gunshots sounded, he didn’t falter only increasing speed.

He activated his web shooters as he ran, whipping around a corner. He finally came to a sudden stop when he saw the hellish sight in front of him.

There was a boy, a senior, looking over three other, similar aged, kids. Each one with a bullet in a fatal place. Peter gasped as he saw that one was already dead and 2 were on the brink of unconsciousness.

The sound that escaped him only made the boy snap his head around to look at him. He immediately went to his phone to call 911, calling Tony would only cause more damage. 

He stopped when he felt the cold end of a gun on his temple, accidentally dropping his phone in absolute terror.

When he's Spider-man, he has a mask to cover his fear. He has quips to bring the seriousness of the situation to almost nothing. The mask was his confidence.

Why was this a good idea again? 

He sucked in a shaky breath and slowly raised his hands to show that he was no harm. 

“P-please don’t shoot,” he begged pathetically.

God, he felt so useless. The older boy lowered the gun only to shoot Peter in the leg with perfect accuracy. He fell like a ton of bricks but his assailant was quick and caught him under his armpits. 

He crouched down to lean Peter against the wall, his legs in front of him. He ripped off the sleeve of his jacket and began cleaning up the blood around the bloody wound.

“I know this hurts, okay? I need you to not be able to run and this seemed like the best option. So I guess I’m sorry? I don’t want to kill you but I can’t have you calling the police either,” he began speaking calmly, confusing Peter. “I need a friend, okay? Someone who can’t run away from me or stab me in the back, like those fuckers.” 

He nodded towards the now-dead boys on the floor. He kicked them away from the two of them and wrapped Peter's wound in the ripped up jacket. 

He whimpered when there was too much pressure and the boy looked up at him apologetically.

“I’m almost done and that reminds me. What’s your name, little dude?” he spoke sincerely but Peter was still afraid to disobey him.

“I-I'm Peter. Parker,” he added at the end.

“Jake,” was all he replied. 

He tucked the gun into his pocket and stepped to admire the handy work he put into the bullet wound. The bleeding was slowing down but only because of Peter's super healing. 

“Alright!” he clasped his hands together, the sound making the smaller boy jump. 

Jake bent down and wrapped an arm around Pete’s torso and lifted himself up, not noticing how he flinched. He took most of Peter’s weight and practically carried him down the hallway. 

“W-where are we going!?” he shouted, alarmed at the speed they were moving. He was ignored as they fled out of the back door of the deserted school and moved towards a car. 

“Wait! Wait!” his voice cracked as he continued shouting protests. “No, no, no! Let me go! Please!” Peter cried hysterically, he was practically useless with a bullet in his leg. 

They stopped outside the door of the passenger seat and Jake opened it. Gently, as if he wasn’t kidnapping someone, he laid Peter down on the seat and slammed the door shut before he could get another objection in.

On the other side, Jake slid in and started the car. He reversed it and they were suddenly back on the busy streets of Queens. 

Due to being Spider-man, he knew all the routes and streets of his neighbourhood like the back of his hand. He noticed how they were heading out of the city, getting further away from help. 

“Please let me go,” he said weakly. He was exhausted at this point his healing stealing all his energy. 

“No can do Pete. Even if I wanted to, I would just get caught by the cops on the way,” he shook his head and turned to face the quivering boy, “Y'know I really wasn’t planning on leaving with company. Well I was but I thought they would be here willingly. Plans change though.”

Peter met his eyes and then regretted it instantly after. 

Although they were slightly apologetic for kidnapping him, they had zero remorse for the fact he murdered three of his classmates.

The lifeless bodies would forever stain his memory.

“You’re a murderer,” he replied with a hoarse voice, “Nobody would go willingly with you.” Insulting his captor probably wasn’t the best route to survival but Peter did it anyway.

Jake barked out a laugh.

“Good that you happened to be in the wrong place, at the wrong time then,” he smiled slyly and Peter had the urge to punch it right off his face. 

He couldn’t though, too drained of energy to make any real damage. He risked a glanced outside and swallowed thickly at the sign saying they were leaving New York. 

His attention was brought back by Jake patting his knee and laughing. 

“Why am I even here?” he dared to say. 

“I said it before: I need a friend. One that won’t run,” he smirked at his bandaged up leg as if he was proud of himself. “We’ll arrive at the lodge soon so you might as well admit defeat.” 

Peter slumped back into the seat and ran his fingers along the creases in the bandage. Somehow he found it soothing so he lost himself in the patterns of the jacket sleeve. 

Jake was right about arriving soon, within half an hour of driving they had made it to a desolate lodge in the middle of the forest. He tried to open the door of the car only to find it locked. He sent a glare Jake's way and he just shrugged in return. 

He flung the door open and walked over to Peter’s side, opening it with the same force. He then slipped an arm around his waist and dragged him out too. Unexpectedly, he slid an arm under his legs, picking him up in bridal style.

“Wait! Wait! You don’t need to do that! Put me down!” he shrieked in shock.

He struggled, attempting to break his hold. It only resulted in him being gripped more firmly.

He wasn’t getting out of this, was he? 

Jake swung the front door open and lowered Peter onto the black couch, before going back to lock it. While he had his back turned, Peter shakily stood up, gritting his teeth at the pain. 

He wobbled to the back door, which seemed to be open. He could hear Jake unloaded the small amount of stuff he’d brought with him and focused on that to indicate danger.

As quietly as possible, he eased the door open and slipped through it, finally getting a full view of the surrounding area. He could see trees covering up an empty road: perfect. 

Still limping, he walked out of the lodge and began making his way to the road. What he forgot to do was listen for Jake, who had finished unpacking. 

A few cars zipped past, reinforcing his hope. 

He was about to call for them when a hand was slapped over his mouth and he was once again pulled against his captor.

He was desperate to escape though and as harshly as he could, he kicked Jake’s shin. He let up his hold and Peter didn’t hesitate to start hobbling towards his escape route. 

The freedom didn’t last long as two arms soon wrapped themselves around Peter. Within seconds, Jake once again had the upper hand and had shoved Peter back into the house. 

He slammed the door shut, breathing heavy. Locking all three locks that Peter failed to notice, he slowly took steps in his direction.

Peter was backed into the wall and his fear seemed to multiply in that moment.

Without the slightest of remorse, Jake kneed the gunshot wound and Peter gasped in pain. His legs gave out and he fell forward into waiting arms. He was swept up again and placed onto the couch, this time too in pain to even sit up. 

Jake pulled up a chair next to where his head lay and thread fingers through his hair. 

“I suggest you give up,” he said coolly, “You aren’t leaving anytime soon and it’ll cause you less pain.” Peter didn’t have the energy to reply. “I hate seeing you in pain, Pete,” he almost scoffed at that, “I hate having to hurt my friends.”

He desperately wanted to argue and say how they weren’t friend but all that came out was a whimper. Tears fell without permission, inviting Jake to crouch down and swipe them away. He caressed his face and looked at it in awe. 

Peter turned away to stop him but instead he gripped it tighter.

“Stop, please,” he whispered but he only smiled as if it were cute.

Peter wasn’t a religious boy but right now he was praying to whatever God that was listening. He silently begged for Tony or the police or somebody to find him.

He couldn’t live like this forever, he would fall apart if he did.

The tears turned into cries and they soon turned into full on sobs. He desperately wanted to stop himself, hating that he showed his weak side to Jake so easily.

Peter fell asleep sooner or later, he couldn’t remember when, only that Jake stayed until he did. 

His eye lids slipped shut painlessly and he had left the land of the conscious. Gratefully, might he add. It was a bliss to have shut out the agonising pain of the flaming bullet still impeded in his thigh. Even for a moment.

Peter could finally relax or at least pretend to, escaping the world of torment for a little while. 

He let his mind wonder freely, his worries had vanished from his mind...


	2. I can't help it, I can't stop

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm in the mood to write!  
> This is kind of a filler but contains some parts of plot. I'm gonna try and upload every 3-4 days at least but I'll probably so more in the holidays.

When he came to, there was only a mild ache in his thigh. He groaned as he opened his heavy eyelids. He peered around and realised he was still lying on the same charcoal couch.

He heard the clattering in the kitchen beside him and his head shot up to see Jake fumbling with some kitchen utensils.

“You... y-you're,” he took a deep breath as he tripped over his words.

Jake turned fast enough to give himself whiplash. An innocent smile played on his face as he advanced toward the dazed boy. 

  
“You might not have noticed but since the pain must’ve been bad I dosed you with something. You might be a bit... confused for a little while.”

  
“Dr-drugs?” he mumbled, trying to sit up and failing miserably.

The couch was wrinkled from usage and Peter's drugged up mind wondered if someone else had been here before him. He finally managed to use his arms to pick himself up and lean against the leather surface.

Taking advantage of his weak state, Jake sat next to him and slid an arm around his neck and pulled him close.

It sickened Peter for his captor to think he’ll get some mad case of Stockholm Syndrome and suddenly love all the attention he’s being given. He briefly thought about if that was the plan but brushed it off when he heard the boy next to him sigh. 

  
“You probably need a distraction or something,” Jake stated, he switched on the TV and it lit up the room.

Peter searched the screen, picking up any details in case he missed something. Jake flicked through the different channels, humming contently.

The news came on and he made a move to switch it but Peter stopped him. His eyes widened when he noticed who was on it: 

  
_Tony Stark walked up to the microphone, cameras capturing multiple pictures. He was a mess, wearing a stained MIT shirt and with bags under his eyes._

_“Yesterday, at Midtown Tech, the school was forced into lock down,” he swallowed, searching for the correct words, “An eighteen-year-old boy, Jake Miller, came into school with a gun. Three people were shot and one boy, Peter Parker, has gone missing. He was my personal intern and so we are searching for him now,” Tony’s voice began getting weaker, “We are asking anyone watching to look out for him. Thank you.” He was escorted off the stage, eyes glossy, and a picture of Peter came up._

  
His shoulders relaxed as he heard the soothing voice of his mentor.

He noticed out of the corner of his eye that Jake was gaping at the reveal but quickly returned to his loose posture. Peter vaguely thought about how or why he became calmed so quickly but forgot about it when the TV went blank.

The moment before it had flashed with instructions of what number to call with any information but Peter hadn’t had a close enough look to remember any. He narrowed his eyes and tried to have a cold look on his face which promptly failed due to Jake smirking slyly at him. 

  
“I’m gonna go get you some food, don’t go anywhere." 

Peter stared back blankly at the obvious taunt to his injured leg.

The eighteen-year-old trod off, wooden boards creaking below him.

Gazing around half heartedly, Peter adjusted his posture on the couch and attempted to make it more comfortable.

It deflated and molded to his shape.

He tried to snuggle into it and imagine it was just another lab day, no crazy kidnappers, no guns and no creepy wooden huts in the forest.

'Mr Stark will save me, he always does,' he thought to himself and repeated it like a mantra until he actually believed it.

'He’s coming. He would never leave me.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember to give feedback and suggestions on where I should take the plot!


	3. So here I stare

Tony was freaking the fuck out.

Peter was missing and he only figured it out three hours after it actually happened.

His school had been in a lockdown with zero teachers in the vicinity and he had just disappeared.

  
It was like he turned to dust. 

No trace of where he went or if he was injured was left on the scene and they were lucky to even know the culprit. 

Tony slammed his fist into the metal table again, the sound of clanging metal vibrating throughout the room. He glared at the information like it had betrayed him, and in a way it kind of had. 

The kid had been missing (and possibly dead) for over twenty four hours and he was going mentally insane at this point. He pulled at his hair again and watched the bad-quality security cameras.

They had low volume and Tony could only hear parts of their conversation. He wouldn’t give up though, he would never give up on Peter even if it was sacrificing himself for the boy. Well, to be honest, he would do that for most people but Peter specifically.   
He looked carefully and tried to read lips, something about not being able to run and... needing a friend? 

Tony considered it for a moment. 

60% of school shootings happen for revenge, 75% bullying and 27% for loneliness – what if Jake took Peter to be in some twisted friendship with him? Tony shuddered. While it could be good news – Peter probably won’t be harmed – it could be (and was most likely) bad news. It would difficult to find them and there was more chance for Miller to want to manipulate Peter. Sometimes the captors who were nice or friendly to their victim were the worst, especially for trauma. 

He looked at Peter's desk in his lab. Right now, if it were normal circumstances, Peter would be dragging himself to the kitchen after staying the night in his bedroom. They would’ve been in the lab, listening AC/DC and singing and dancing goofily along. He smiled at the memories and allowed his mind to linger there for a minute. That’s how Pepper and Rhodey found him. 

They frowned as he stared at the wall in front of him, obviously not entirely there. 

“Hey Tones. We finished talking to some of Miller's classmates,” Rhodes called from the elevator. Pepper and him stepped out, walking next to the stool. 

“What did they say?” Just like that, Tony was back down to Earth. 

“They said the same thing mostly, something about his friends acting strange around him. Some mentioned that he was becoming more hot-headed and angry easily.”

Tony hummed, his theory becoming more likely. He decided to confront them about it.

“How likely is it for Peter to be taken because Miller needed support or for some method of being less lonely?” Pepper nodded her head, sighing.

“From what we’re seen and heard, it is quite possible that was what happened. His parents died and he lives on his own because he is eighteen and had been in foster care before that,” she sadly informed, Rhodey nodding in agreement. 

“I looked over the camera surveillance again and Miller’s looked like he was talking about he dead boys, Archie, Liam and Noah, ‘stabbing him in the back. He also looked like he was talking about Peter ‘not being able to run. I think he shot Peter in the leg but I’m not sure, it was blocked from view.” 

Both Pepper and Rhodey looked as though they would throw up at any minute and if Tony was being honest, he was feeling slightly nauseous himself. Slightly off balance, he got off the stool, swiped away the holograms and stepped towards the elevator. 

_I need a drink_. He stumbled towards the cabinet but stopped when he remembered disposing of them once Peter got his own room.

_But Peter needs me more._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm always looking for suggestions on where to take the story next since I don't have a solid plot yet. Feel free to leave ideas or just comments on my writing style :)


	4. And so I drank

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Proper Peter Parker Whump now and I finally reveal more on Jake

Peter watched as Jake sauntered back in the room, sandwich at hand, and sat up straighter. He observed cautiously as he moved towards him and inched back slowly. He was passed the sandwich and he took it, searching it for any clue if it was drugged.

“So, Tony Stark’s intern huh?" Peter remained quiet and played with his hands. 

The only good thing that had happened in the last 24 hours was that he left his backpack in his locker. 

The couch creaked as Jake sat next to him and only then did Peter realise how much taller he was then Peter. He was around 6 foot, maybe taller and looked like your classic jock. 

It was kind of confusing, Peter had always thought that Jake Miller, the football player he was, would be popular. He seemed to have crowds of people talking to him from the very few games he’d been to. 

But, now thinking back on it, he was always surrounded by three people in particular. Of course, Peter didn’t memorize their faces but it would make sense if they were the three... dead students. 

Even the slightest thought of what Jake had done made Peter feel sick, how ruthlessly he had killed them, no mercy in his eyes. As Spider-Man, he had seen things similar to that but it didn’t make it any less horrifying that someone, the boy next to him, would do such a thing. 

Peter refocused and made an attempt to clear his head, that was when he realised Jake was staring at him expectantly. It took a second for his mind to catch up and register that he was waiting for him to eat the sandwich. 

Caving under the scrutinizing glare, Peter lifted it up to his mouth and slowly took a bite. It was only them did he find out how hungry he actually was. 

Within a few minutes, it was reduced to nothing and Peter sat there, waiting for more. He didn’t get anything else, normal people only need a simple sandwich to fill themselves up and he cursed his metabolism for being so fast. It was silent for a few minutes until Peter decided to risk it.

“Why did you... k-kill the other kids?” he hesitantly lifted his head and met the burning gaze of the older boy’s. He seemed to think about it before answering, searching for the right words.

“They were fake friends, they tried to use me. I thought they liked me but...” his voice grew weaker and he trailed off. 

Unexpectedly, Jake bounced of the couch and began pacing. While he did so, Peter edged back, alarmed at the abrupt movement. He noticed how as Jake paced his rage increased then whirled around to look at him.

“I’m just- I’m so sick of people trying to control me!” he slammed a fist into the coffee table, the sound echoing off the wooden walls of room. He looked up, anger filling his eyes and he stared at Peter. 

If looks could kill Peter was sure he’d be dead at this point and he felt like he could see the fire in his pupils. He shrank back into himself and wished the couch would swallow him, dread pooling in his gut. 

Miller stomped away soon after and a few seconds later, after Peter was certain he couldn’t come back, he uncurled himself. He let his legs drop back off the side of the black furniture and once the room had stopped spinning, he got up onto his shaky legs. Peter could hear the creaking of the floor boards above him and let himself relax at the sound.

At least he could investigate the lodge instead of doing nothing.

The windows were boarded up with thick wooden planks and Peter quietly crept towards them. He tested how strong they were putting some of his strength into it but not enough to break it. He would need to be less drugged in order to break through them but it wasn’t impossible. 

Peter dragged his feet towards the kitchen, using the wall as leverage, and began opening cupboards for any food he could eat. He spotted a loaf of bread and inaudibly grabbed two slices. Greedily, he stuffed his face full of his prize and began seeking a glass of water.

There was a silver tap on the opposite side of the kitchen and he began stumbling over to it . At the lowest setting possible, Peter cranked the handle and cupped his hands. The water slid down his throat without complaint and he finally felt his strength returning.

Once he had finished gulping the water down, he sat on the cabinet and began picking at the ‘bandage’. He peeled it off and grimaces at the sight of his wound. 

How could he forget! They didn’t take the bullet out so now red streaks patterned his leg. He let out a humourless laugh but soon after realized his mistake. Peter hopped off the counter and hobbled toward the lounge they were previously in. He quickly took off his hoodie and pressed it to the wound as it began dripping blood on the cushions. 

Wincing at the pain, he wrapped it tightly hoping it would at least slow the bleeding down. On cue, a calmer-than-before Jake peaked his head out of the door frame and looked at Pete with curiosity.

“Whatcha laughing ‘bout, Pete?” he asked. The guilt on Peter's face gave him away quickly.

“Oh, fuck. Is that still bleeding?” Jake asked rhetorically, his question being answered as the cloth stained red. “Wait here, I’ll see if I have supplies.”

“Not that I can go anywhere,” Peter mumbled as Jake scurried off. He tried to see if the bullet was slightly visible and to his luck it was. It wasn’t too deeply embedded into his skin and if he had the right tools he could get it out with ease. 

“Here.” A box of medical supplies was dumped in his lap and he got to work of searching through it. Peter plucked up the tweezers and was about to move them towards his leg when Jake snatched them off him. Smiling innocently, Jake sat next to where his legs were outstretched and lifted the hoodie Peter had placed over it. 

“Wait!” Peter protested and tried to flinch out the way. 

The metal met the wound and he screamed. 

Jake didn’t stop though, no, he ignored the pained yells and shrieks and instead dug the tweezers further until he finally found the bullet. It clattered onto the table as it was dropped and Peter bit his hand to stop him from crying. 

He watched with red-rimmed eyes as a bandaged was wrapped around the wound and Jake packed up the box. He tossed it to the side and moved closer to Peter side. 

He dragged Peter’s hands away from his face and held them in his own. He brushed the tears away, ignoring the flinch at the touch. Jake sighed heavily at inspected Peter’s face, as if he was memorizing every detail.

Uncomfortable with the piercing gaze, Peter ducked his head and allowed some of his hair to fall over his eyes. Jake seemed to sense his uneasiness and for once moved away into the armchair next to the couch. 

His eyes never left Peter though. As if Peter would move away any minute.

As if Peter would leave him. 


	5. I don't owe an explanation

Peter was drowning in anxiety. It scared him, the way Jake could be calm and collected and then full of rage from the slightest word. Without using his super strength, there was no way Peter was escaping. After the episode Jake had a few hours earlier, he never seemed to leave Peter unless it was for food or something. 

  
Peter was getting sick of it.

  
He constantly thought about if he should just go Spider-Man mode and beat the shit out of him but there was one thought stopping him. If he were to show that he was Spider-Man, that would be yet another criminal with his identity. It would be yet another risk to all of his friends and family. So he sat there, helplessly, hoping somebody would happen to find him. Jake seemed to notice the glances towards the door and how he barely talked and decided to question him.

  
“Hey, you okay?” he asked once he re-entered the room. Peter’s head snapped up and he nodded. 

  
“Is your leg okay?” He got the same answer but Peter also drew it closer to him and hugged it to his chest. Jake took a step closer and inspected it himself. The bandage had a few crimson spots but other than that it seemed fine. 

  
“Damn, you heal fast.” Peter’s eyes widened at the statement and he covered the gauze with his hand. It was a reflex and Peter winced at the pressure. Once Jake settled down again, Peter glared at the ceiling again, as if it personally offended him. By now he had probably memorized every plank of wood. Boredom leaked from his attitude and he attempted to entertain himself by counting every nail or screw, it didn’t help. 

  
“You know I’m not actually surprised Peter Parker has an internship. Aren’t you in the decathlon and you’re like the top of your classes.” That confused Peter. How did Jake know him? He asked for his name so he couldn’t know him, unless Peter was missing something here. 

  
“How do you know that?” he asked, quietly voicing his thoughts. 

  
“Didn’t recognise you at first but your name reminded me. I’ve overheard that you are smarter than most of the seniors. Probably smarter than me.” More like definitely, Peter thought bitterly but kept it to himself. Last time he had spoken his thoughts freely Jake had completely freaked out. His mood had completely changed as soon as he even mentioned the boys; he didn’t want to go through that again.

  
Peter was kind of worried that Jake would hurt him again, of course when he was shot, Jake seemed to feel bad but Peter wouldn’t put it past him to hurt him again. He probably still had the gun, better not to risk it. Discreetly, Peter checked his pockets for anything that might help. He had a pack of gum, a receipt and a bunch of useless change. Jake probably had a phone so Peter forged a plan in his head. 

  
When Jake fell asleep, he would steal the phone, call 911 and then pry open one of the windows. He knew he was out of New York so he was going to try to find the location on Google Maps and would hopefully have enough time to tell the police before he woke up. He peered around the room and tried to find the best place to leave from. 

  
There was a window next to the door so he thought that would probably be the worst place to go and decided to leave through the one by the window. He prayed to whatever god was listening that his leg wouldn’t slow him down much if he needed to run. 

  
He settled back into the cushions and evened out his breathing, closing his eyes as if he were falling asleep. Peter heard Jake moving and he, too, got comfortable on the chair. 

  
It wasn’t too long before he fell asleep. 

  
That was when Peter struck. 


	6. Because I'm stuck on living in a daze

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have literally no excuse for not posting sooner especially with all the lockdown shit going around. I'll be surprised if anybody reads this but still go ahead...

He didn’t know why. Peter didn’t know why but he soon found himself clutching a gun as if it granted him power. 

  
He knew how. 

  
Peter had searched Jake's pockets and found the weapon. He grabbed it and weighed it in his hands, checked for bullets and there were two left. He knew his powers were more deadly than a gun, yet he grabbed it anyway and slunk away, phone in one hand, pistol in the other. 

  
That’s how Peter got here, wondering why he hadn’t left it. His logic told him that he took it so Jake couldn’t use it but that one part of his brain, the part that he had never seen before, told him it was for protection. He didn't mean that he could threaten Jake, have the upper hand, no, he meant that he could hurt someone, kill someone if he wanted to. He could do that with his bare hands though, and that was why he was confused. Peter tucked it in his pocket for later and focused on the task at hand. He dialled in the number he knew so well and waited.

  
“Who are you and what do you want?” Tony's voice rang out and sliced through Peter's anxiety like a butter knife through well... butter. 

  
“Mr Stark! I need help I um...” he looked around for any clues as to where he was and decided to head towards the road.

  
“Peter?! Are you okay? Where are you?” Tony’s questions became more desperate as he continued. “I’ll come and pick you up, okay? I need you to tell me your surroundings.”

  
“O-okay. Um I’m by a road but I’m surrounded by trees. Should I get a car to pull over?” He heard Tony hum in agreement and tried to get one of the drivers' attention. 

  
A car stopped by and Peter immediately ran up to them, balancing the phone between his shoulder and his ear. 

“Excuse me?” he started, “Can you tell me where I am?” 

“We are thirty minutes from Queens. This road is called the Central Countryside road. Are you lost, young man?” the woman said while peering at him curiously. 

  
“Yeah but don’t worry though my um... dad is coming to pick me up,” Peter reassures her after stumbling for words. Only when the woman had left did his Spidey-Sense spike. Like an electric shock, he was immediately alert and whipped around to see Jake running towards him. His eyes widened and he snatched the gun up from his pocket, aiming at the young adult. 

  
He knew how it worked. Tony had taught him how just in case, despite Peter's multiple protests. Jake walked closer still, as if he doubted Peter's willpower to pull the trigger. His enhanced hearing could hear Tony’s car only down the road but it was still too far to be able to stop anything if something happened. 

  
“I'll do it. Step one step closer and I’ll do it,” Peter's mouth spoke without his consent and he flicked the safety off as a warning. Jake kept pushing his boundaries, creeping closer almost teasingly. Peter readjusted his hold on the weapon but kept his gaze steady, his finger twitching in the trigger. The older boy moved to tackled him and Peter dropped to the floor bringing him with him. 

  
Before he knew what was happening, a deafening bang sounded and brought silence over the already quiet scene. Peter almost dropped the gun like it burned him and stared at the horror he created.

  
Blood dyed Jake's shirt as his face became something between a mix of confused, in pain and betrayed. He stumbled back and became a crumpled heap on floor. The red liquid coated the grass as he lost more and more blood. 

  
Jake was going to die by Peter's hand. 

  
Only then did Tony's car come swerving down the road and he ran towards the mess. Peter was pulled into a bone crushing hug but he couldn’t bring himself to react as Tony brought his head into his shoulder to cover his eyes. An ambulance followed and Jake's lifeless body was dragged away by the paramedics as Peter sobbed. His blue piercing eyes seemed to haunt and follow him despite being dead, gone, soulless. Peter shoved Tony away, ignoring the hurt expression displayed on his face. 

  
“What did I do?” he asked nobody in particular. He paced murmuring, “it’s all my fault. I killed him. He’s gone. I’m a murderer,” as if it were a prayer. 

  
“Hey. hey Pete, listen to me, Underoos,” Tony tried to get his attention but didnt succeed. He brought a hand up to the boy's shoulder, a foolish thing to do. The gun was on him, pointed at his chest and Tony instantly stepped away. The paramedics who were dealing with Jake gasped as well. “Hey, we don’t need that right now, ‘kay?” Tony attempted go sooth him. 

  
“I- I don’t know what I’m doing! Mr Stark help me!” Peter screamed. He continued waving the gun around incapable of understanding what was happening. 

  
“You’re okay, I just need you to put the gun down before you hurt someone, yeah?” Tony reached out and eased a hand onto the barrel of the gun. 

  
“I already have! I killed him!” he yelled, moving away from the man. “What do I do? Will I get arrested! I’m just as bad as the people I stop!” Peter was hyperventilating and still pointing the gun at Tony. He realised what he was doing a minute later and changed his grip pointing at someone else. 

  
That someone being him.

  
“Hey, hey, hey, no need to do that, kid,” Tony quickly told and stepped closer to the boy. The safety was off and Peter's finger was twitching on the trigger, itching to pull it. The muzzle dug into his temple and tears ran freely down his cheeks. A heavy silence descended onto the forest, only hearing the panic stuttering breaths of Peter and the deep ones Tony was taking to calm himself. “You don’t want to do that to yourself. Imagine how many people would get hurt from Spider-Man not saving them. C'mon Pete, don’t leave me. What about May, Ned, MJ, hell even Happy?” 

  
Peter’s heavy sobs shuddered his body and he closed his eyes. He weakened his death-grip and allowed Tony to slip out the gun, dropping to his knees as soon as it left his fingers, as if it held up his body alone. His head was pressed into Tony's chest and he curled into his father-figure. Peter held onto him like a lifeline and sat there for what felt like both an eternity and no time at all. All he could imagine was Jake's piercing gaze and how he had a weirdly caring attitude towards him. 

  
He blacked out at some point, his vision getting hazy and eventually he was gone. He woke up to his own bed and stayed there for a good hour before moving from his position – only to turn over and fall asleep again.

  
He would deal with the Aftermath later.


End file.
